A Want or a Need?
by Somewhat Sporadic
Summary: "You don't want me, Jane. Trust me, I—" "On the contrary, my dear. In fact, it's more of a need than a want. But all the same, I'm not going to leave you. I promise." Just a little scene I'd like to see when the time is right. T for minor language inside.


**A/N: Hey howdy hey, folks. This is just a random little scene that I would like to see happen in the show. Surprise, surprise, it's Jisbon centric because I can't help it. I guess it's kind of a continuation of a chapter of one of my AOF4 chapters, so those of you have read that will probably recognise some of the lines in here. ;D Enjoy x**

**Disclaimer: Like I said, I made this scene up in my head and it's something I want to happen. If it was mine, it would've already been shown. Hence, I don't own it. :)**

Everywhere around them there was the blare and the action and the ambience of a typical crime scene. Except it wasn't 'typical' at all. In actual fact, the reality couldn't have been further from it. For one thing, the man lying on the ground spreading a surge of red out across the floor was being ignored and not being tended to by a swarm of insect-like CSIs. Add on to that the particular conversation a certain Agent and Consultant were having and you had yourself a scenario that was anything but the norm.

It was over. Finished. Red John was gone. Dead. In fact it was he who was lying pallid, lifeless and rigid in his own blood, oblivious to the hubbub around him. Gone were the days Jane spent painstakingly reading and re-reading the files of useless information they had at the CBI. The moments of lust for revenge, mind-consuming anger and despair were a thing of the past and all that was left was a void of numbing confusion.

"What is there for me now, Lisbon?" he asked, almost begging. Begging for help, for some form of comfort. She granted him his plea and gripped his icy hand.

"I don't know. What do you _want _for yourself?" she said.

Jane looked briefly at the grisly image that taunted him from afar. "That's the thing. I don't know." He shook his head. "I just don't know anymore, Lisbon."

"Well, I…I…" Her voice faded as she stumbled upon the same conclusion. She didn't know. Didn't know what to do next, how things would turn out or how to help him.

Over the years they had lapsed into a routine of sorts; he would run around solving cases left, right and centre and she would follow, cleaning up the mess that Hurricane Jane left behind in the process. When they hit a roadblock or, in this case, Red John, he would change into a real force to be reckoned with. He would stop at nothing to get his revenge and it sometimes scared her. Unbeknownst to him, he hurt her more than he initially intended, but still she kept coming back and caught him when he fell. Why she did it, only God knew, but sure as hell she would continue to do it for as long as necessary.

"I can't help you unless you tell me what you want." She said. Her small hand was still wrapped around his, and she gave it what was meant to be a reassuring squeeze. Then she let go and took a step backwards, eyes unwillingly flickering to the deceased serial killer. "I can't make decisions for you, Jane. That's up to you."

He nodded in understanding. "I know. I'll go thank Cho." He decided.

Cho had been the one who had fired the shot that ended Jane's turmoil. One press of the trigger was all it had taken. Of course, there might've been a more self-satisfactory conclusion Jane had in mind, but it would do. The monster was dead. For now, that was all that mattered.

Jane turned and walked in the direction of the house that overlooked the crime scene where he knew he would find the agent in question. Lisbon stayed behind, unable to look away from the image she knew would haunt her for many years to come.

The bitter air whistled in her ears and a damp fog began to settle and block out the silvery light of the moon. It clung to her pale skin, making her more susceptible to the chill of the autumn night.

She felt emotionally drained from the last few days. There was no denying that Red John had affected them all; not just Jane. The bastard had worked his dark magic and hooked them all into his evil, manipulating games. A part of her now understood why Jane had wanted so badly to kill him. But she also understood that, had they have caught him alive, the suffering would be much worse. God forgive her, she wanted to walk over to the corpse and slap that grimacing face to hell and back. But he was dead. He wouldn't feel anything remotely close to the pain that Jane had endured for the past eight years, so what was the point?

A part of her was thrilled that he was finally free, free to live his life to its fullest and move on. But at the same time, a crushing sense of sadness had been slowly eating away at her. Now that Red John was gone, would Jane stay with the CBI? Or would he ditch them all and run off, never to be seen or heard of again? The idea made a few stray tears pool in her eyes.

She'd always gotten annoyed with him for one reason or another and at first, she had prayed for him to leave sooner rather than later. But over the years, he had taught her a very important lesson; make the most of the people you love because they can be taken away from you at any moment. And something had hit her like a ton of bricks. Did she love Patrick Jane?

Yes, she decided. She did. Well, she'd felt it for quite some time, but really _acknowledging _it had been a more recent thing. She had sighed and started to bang her head on her desk until the man himself had walked in.

Despite his 'lesson' she'd let it happen anyway. She hadn't told him- felt no need to tell him the full extent of her feelings, and now look what was happening. He was already starting to fade away. She could see it in his eyes. He'd always been more partial to fleeing than fighting, and right now, she could tell he wanted to get the hell away. From the team. From her. She felt her blood start to boil.

"Son of a bitch." She muttered through her teeth. "You make me feel like that then you run off!" Angrily, she kicked a stone with the toe of her shoe. It went flying in a high arch and landed at someone's feet.

"Whoa, why are you so mad?" Jane asked, putting his hands up.

She briefly looked at him in surprise and then scowled at the ground. "I'm not mad." She replied stubbornly. She raised an eyebrow when he chuckled.

"Come on. You know I know you better than that."

It was true. He probably knew more about her than anyone else in the entire world. Which also made him that much more infuriating. She shrugged. "I'm not mad!" She insisted.

"No, you're practically demonic. Tell me what's wrong."

"What do you think is wrong, Jane?" she sighed tiredly.

He shrugged. "I don't know. You're impossible to read sometimes." Lisbon scoffed. "No, really. Most people are just plain transparent. But you…you're something special."

"Cut the flattery, Jane. Chivalry's dead and you know it."

"Not in my book." He grinned.

"Oh, really?" A smile played at the corners of her mouth and the conversation dropped.

"Seriously, what's up?" he asked again, all traces of a smile suddenly gone. She looked down at the ground and plunged her hands into her pockets. "Teresa?"

"Just…just promise me a few things, yeah? Promise me you'll take care of yourself. Find somewhere nice to live and…and find someone to love. And remember me. Remember _us._"

His blank face twisted suddenly and his eyes widened. "Lisbon, I— _Remember you?_ What do you…?"

He looked staggered. This was coming from Teresa Lisbon, the woman he had idolized from the very beginning, the saintly guardian for whom he had developed more-than-friendly feelings. Her mask had slipped and behind it he caught a glimpse of the small and fragile girl she was once before. What was she talking about?

"What do you mean 'remember you'? How could I _forget _you?"

"Well you're leaving aren't you? You always leave without a word and then reappear several days later. Why should this time be any different? Except it'll be more than a few days…" she trailed off as the full impact really hit home. "Jane…Don't go."

In her eyes and her voice, he detected heart-breaking despair. "Lisbon…"

She turned away. "I'm sorry. That was dumb. Just…don't worry. I'm being stupid. I'm—"

"I'm not going anywhere."

"I'm just being—what?" She stopped dead and stared at him.

"I said I'm not leaving. Why would I? I don't have anywhere else to go. Or anyone else to see, etcetera."

Her mouth opened and closed, unable to find the right words.

"I don't want to leave either."

"So you're staying with the CBI?" she said, a smile rapidly growing on her face.

"That's what I want." he nodded.

"That's…brilliant." She said, smiling but avoiding eye contact. He leant his body forward so as to make her look at him.

"Really? You wanted me to stay?"

"Yeah. Of course. We all did."

"Why?"

His blunt question pulled her up short. "What do you mean 'why'?" she stammered. "We're colleagues. We're…friends…right?"

"Of course." He frowned a little. "But I really don't appreciate being condemned to the friend zone."

She almost fell over. "The friend zone? What the hell? Were we even at that stage?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. You tell me."

"Where did this come from?" All this time, she had thought it was an unrequited situation, that the feelings involved were felt by herself and herself only. _Apparently not_, she thought.

"You started this conversation."

"How did I? I didn't say anything of the sort!" she shot back indignantly.

"No, but you thought it."

"I thought you said I was impossible to read?" she scowled.

"Only when you're grumpy." He smiled. "When you're grumpy, which is about ninety per cent of the time I might add, you guard is usually up. When you're happy however, you're an open book." He stepped closer to her. "And I like reading books. So I have every intention of staying to make you happy."

Her breathing hitched as he placed a warm hand on her cheek. Involuntarily, she leant into it, feeling the unnatural smoothness of his skin. "I didn't realise you were such a softy, my dear." He smiled.

Suddenly realising what she was doing, her head shot up. "You don't want me, Jane. Trust me, I—"

"On the contrary, my dear. In fact, it's more of a need than a want. But all the same, I'm not going to leave you. I promise."

"Jane…" She hummed as his hand once again cupped her face and his thumb began drawing lazy circles on her cheek, almost hypnotically lulling her into a relaxed state.

With one more step, he pulled her into a hug, enveloping her in his strong arms. He felt her go lax and her hands rested against his chest. "I'll keep you safe and sound, Lisbon. I swear. Red John is gone. No need to worry anymore." He whispered.

Her body leant heavily against his and her eyes fluttered shut. With barely any effort, he scooped her tiny body up bridal-style and smiled as she snuggled into him, fist gripping his vest. Yep. He definitely needed her. Without a doubt, he couldn't have faced this all alone. She was a lifeline; the only thing that kept him going. The reason he got up in the morning and the highlight of every day. Jane softly planted a loving kiss on her forehead and sighed contentedly. It was then that he knew everything would work out just fine.

He carried her towards his car, ready to drive her to her apartment. The Citroën took them away from the nightmarish scene and closer to their happy ending.

**A/N: Ta da! Yep, just a silly little one-shot. Nothing special to be honest, but all thoughts are greatly appreciated. (Hint, hint! ;D)**


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